


22 Whittle Street

by Adventurous_Adventurist



Category: Call the Midwife
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-08
Updated: 2017-07-10
Packaged: 2018-11-29 10:36:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 14,658
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11439078
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Adventurous_Adventurist/pseuds/Adventurous_Adventurist
Summary: Patsy and Trixie get a new housemate. Patsy likes the look of her. Bit of fluff.And yes, to those who have read this on ff.net, I will be carrying it on... at some point and I've edited out a few mistakes I've found.This is still the first thing I've pretty much ever written so all comments and criticism are welcomed.





	1. Chapter 1

"Bloody hell, you look like a bit worse for wear."

"I won't lie, I'm fully regretting doing Jägerbombs with the lads last night" Delia croaked in response to Patsy’s honesty.

Although Delia had moved into hers and Trixie's spare room almost a week ago, this was only one of a handful of times Patsy had spoken to her new housemate. Delia was looking utterly woeful as she sat at the kitchen table nursing a bottle of Coke, a Flake easter egg, and what appeared to be the remnants of last night's pizza.

"You do know a proper breakfast and a cup of tea would do you more favours than eating that, don't you? I can't imagine old pizza holding too much in the way of nutritional value" Patsy suggested with a wry half-smile. Delia nodded her agreement but made no move to do anything about it.

Patsy set about flicking the kettle on rummaging through the fridge for bacon and eggs. She set three rashers under the grill and pulled a frying pan from the cupboard. The sound of pans clanging made Delia wince and pull her hood over her head.

"Feels like I've got 10 heads on my neck" Delia grumbled, rubbing at her temples.

"Do you want some of this? I don't mind making you something" Patsy responded, already taking another mug from the cupboard and putting three more rashers onto the tray. Being a nurse, it was in her nature to express her caring side even outside the confines of the hospital walls.

_She even looks cute when she looks like she's been dug up_ _... No! Don't you dare Patience Mount! Don't you bloody dare!_

Patsy silently chided herself. If she had a type, Delia most definitely was it. Patsy had found herself tripping over her words and feeling her cheeks burn when Delia showed up at the house to enquire about taking the vacant room. She couldn't help it. Delia was gorgeous! A good half a head shorter than herself and a petite little athletic frame that suggested she must play some sort of sport.

As lovely and aesthetically pleasing as she was, it was her eyes that made Patsy’s heart beat faster in her chest. Deep blue. The sort of shimmering blue the sea would be if you were holidaying in the Maldives. Everything about her was captivating. Her eyes, her smile that stretched right up to her eyes and lit her face beautifully, her dark hair that she only ever seemed to wear loose around her shoulders. Even her dress sense. Certainly a tomboy and that suited her perfectly as well. Luckily for Delia, only being 22, she could still get away with wearing baggy hats, band t-shirts with the sleeves rolled up and jeans that looked a size too big. Thus, the waistband sitting a few inches lower than they perhaps ordinarily would if they fitted her properly. Also, Patsy had noticed Delia preferred wearing boxers to knickers and found the idea just a little bit endearing. Not that she'd been ogling her, it's was just hard not to notice when her jeans were halfway down her backside.

"Tea or coffee?" Patsy asked, pointing to Delia’s mug as the kettle clicked the end of its boiling.

"Oh... tea please." Delia answered, suddenly snapping back to reality. Every little noise was making her head pound even harder.

"Sugar?"

"Yes please, just the one mind."

Patsy brought over two plates of bacon and egg sandwiches, two cups of steaming hot tea along with a pint of water and two paracetamol, "For the hangover."

They tucked in in relative silence. The only noticeable sound was Delia happily moaning as she swallowed the first bite of her sandwich. Pasty found herself suppressing a smile as she watched the younger girl seem to begin to perk up with every bite she took.

Breakfast seemed to have the required effect and Delia found herself feeling a little more human as the salty, bacony goodness seeped into her bloodstream. She realised she must have appeared quite rude sitting there with her hood up, not speaking a word.

"That was lush, thank you." she said, with the twinkle back in her eyes.

"Where's Trixie? I've only seen her once since I moved in. How long have you lived together? Do you both work in the same bit of the hospital?... Sorry, I didn't mean to bombard you with twenty questions all at once, it's just I haven't really seen either of you and I think I ought to know a bit about... You know what, I'll shut up now." Delia said, clearly a tad embarrassed at her incessant chatter.

"No, no, it's fine, honestly. It's good to see my hangover special has worked a treat" Patsy replied. She'd happily listen to Delia witter on all day long in that beautiful Welsh lilt. "To answer your first question, Trixie's on earlies all week but she's off tomorrow so she should be home around 8 tonight if she doesn't go for a drink afterwards. We'll probably order a take-out and get some wine in if you fancy joining us?" Pasty suggested as she set about clearing the breakfast things into the sink. "And as for the rest of what you asked, Trixie works on the Neonatal unit, I work downstairs in A and E and we got this place 3 years ago when we qualified. Our friend Barbara lived with us until she got married and moved in with her husband Tom a couple of months ago."

Delia nodded her head at the suggestion of a quiet night in. It would be nice to spend a little time getting to know her housemates.

She glanced up at the clock on the wall. 10:15.

"Shit" she muttered under her breath. "Why oh why did I go out knowing full well I have a match at this afternoon?" Delia grumbled, getting up from her seat and making her way to the door. She knew she'd have to get a move on if she was to get there on time. Her sore and cloudy head had made her nonchalant this morning and she still needed to shower and get her kit together.

"Where is it and what time do you need to be there?" Patsy asked, abandoning the washing up and turning to face the brunette.

"We're at home today but I still need to be there for quarter past 11."

"Go and get your stuff ready and I'll drop you off if you like? I don't imagine public transport would be a good idea in the state you were in earlier" Patsy laughed. Delia made to object but thought better of it, knowing she'd never make it if she had to rely on the bus.

"Err... yeah, okay then, if you don't mind. I'll give you petrol money for your trouble. It's only round at St Matthew's near Victoria Park." Delia said appreciatively with a smile, turning back to make her way upstairs to gather her things.


	2. Soaked

Although the bus journey home was hell, Delia’s mood didn't wane. Yes, the bus smelled like salt and vinegar crisps. Yes, there was a screaming toddler demanding God knows what from his mother, and yes, she was still suffering from the night before, but her team had won and that was all she needed to get her through the torture.

As she journeyed through the streets of East London she couldn't help but think back to how she ended up here. A month ago she'd been living in her parents modest 2 bedroomed house in South Wales, working in her father's fabric shop and dreaming of seeing the world. For years she'd longed to fly the nest, move to a city or a bigger town and discover people like herself. She'd been bored. Bored beyond belief and the need for adventure and thrill and freedom couldn't be suppressed. Her mother wasn't particularly struck with the idea of her daughter venturing off to a city miles away, doing God knows what, God knows where with God knows who, but Delia was a grown woman and she couldn't hold her down any longer. Delia loved her parents, and being their only child they'd lavished her with all the love and attention they had for her but she needed some independence. Opportunities were hardly in abundance in tiny Pembrokeshire villages, and the opportunities that were there to be taken, Delia had no interest in. She didn't want to work in a little shop, be married to a man she knew she could never love, playing happy families if she bore him a child or two. That wasn't the life she yearned for.

She smiled as she though of what she'd achieved already in her short time in the capital. The job had been the easy bit. With a decent sports science degree, charisma to burn and the ability to talk the hind legs off a donkey, she'd secured herself employment at a physiotherapy centre and so far it had been great. The patients seemed to like her, as did the rest of the team and she slotted in easily. The lads she worked alongside treated her like one of the lads, inviting her on nights out and for a pint or two after work.

Finding somewhere to live hadn't been anything like the ordeal she'd expected either. When she arrived at the house to discuss moving in and living arrangements, Patsy and Trixie had been nothing short of delightful. Conversation was easy between the trio and she had to admit she was happy they were roughly the same age as her, give or take a couple of years. Trixie was this effervescent little blonde thing with a zest for the social side of life and a love of all things fashionable. She could easily be taken as being just another dizzy blonde but underneath the almost-white hair and flawless make-up, Delia could tell there was much more to her than her exterior. 

Patsy was absolutely stunning to look at. All bright orange hair and long, lean limbs and a sort of self-confidence and slightly hardened demeanour about her that she carried impeccably. Delia put it down to her taller than average height and boarding school education but something in the back of her mind suggested there was something underneath all that. A sadness almost, like part of her had been lost.

And then came the football. Delia had played since she was tiny, kicking a ball around the back garden with her dad until she was old enough to join (one of the very few) girls teams in the area. She loved the sport and she was bloody good at it too, so naturally she found herself googling the local teams in her new area. St Matthew's had been the first to offer her a trial at a training session and she'd been as giddy as a school girl in the build up to it. Looking over their record for the previous season, Delia knew she had her work cut out to get a regular place in the team, but as ever, she was determined. The trial went well, better than well in fact. It appeared she slotted right in amongst the other girls, proving herself in her position, her work rate and showing she had the fitness to keep up.

Her train of thought was rudely interrupted as the bus ground to a juddering halt. Brilliant. Of course it had broken down. Of course it was absolutely lashing down outside. Of course she was still in her kit. 

Better get a jog on, Busby! she thought ruefully as she jumped off the bus navigate the rest of her way home.

Ten minutes later and she was back at the house, sodden, cold, muddy and in desperate need of a bath. As she stood in the hallway, water dripping off her and taking off her soggy trainers, Patsy called out, rounding the corner.

"Oh, you're back. How was your... Oh!! What the tits happened to you?" Patsy stood open mouthed in the kitchen doorway. 

The look of concern on her face turned into a wry smile as she drank in the sight before her. Delia Busby, drenched to the skin and looking utterly dishevelled but smiling nonetheless. "Bus died a tragic death so I had to run the rest of the way" Delia panted, stripping her socks off on the mat behind the door and announcing "I'm gonna go and soak in the bath for a while."

Patsy was still staring, as her eyes followed Delia to the bottom of the stairs.

"So did you win?" She asked, one perfectly plucked eyebrow raised.

"Oh, yeah, 3-1. I scored one too." The brunette answered, removing her top and turning a quarter turn towards the blushing redhead.

She fancies you Busby! No doubt about it. Delia inwardly noted.


	3. Cilla Black over here

Patsy’s phone vibrated on the arm of the couch.

"Red or white? order food, be home in 20 sweetie xx"

Realising she had no idea what Delia drank other than Jägerbombs, (which they were definitely not going to be drinking tonight) Patsy thought she ought to find out. Shouting up the stairs, she called out to Delia. No answer. And again. No answer again so she made her way up to Delia’s bedroom door and knocked lightly. Still no answer.

"Delia?" She heard the bed creak.

"Come in Pats."

She slowly turned the handle and popped her head around the door. Delia was awake, albeit barely, laying there in a Swansea City shirt and dark grey joggers, one arm slung behind her head and an earphone dangling off the side of the bed.

"Sorry to disturb you," Pasty apologised, "Trixie's calling at the shop on her way home and wants to know what you're drinking?"

"Anything as long as it's not red wine please" Delia replied, taking a crinkly ten pound note out of her pocket and sitting up to hand it over.

Patsy refused to take it, claiming it was her turn to pay but Delia was having none of it, resorting to walking right up to the redhead and shoving the tenner into her jeans pocket. She couldn't help but notice the reddening of Patsy’s cheeks when she threw her a cheeky grin and started descend downstairs, leaving Patsy to compose herself.

Food delivered and wine poured, the three girls settled themselves in the living room, quietly tucking in and enjoying polite conversation about how their days had gone and discussing plans for the week. Obviously the trio were living boring lives that week because there was nothing more interesting than work, the weekly food shop, more work and Delia’s desperate need for a trip to Ikea for a new chest of drawers. The set she had had been condemned after one of the runners had slipped, rendering it virtually useless.

Delia had slipped into her own little world, thinking of everything from how much she hated flat-pack furniture to whether or not she should take a trip up to Manchester for a weekend when the spring comes in. She was sharply snapped back to reality when Trixie broached the subject of relationships.

This was what Patsy had been dreading.

She'd known Trixie long enough to know the dear girl had little to no tact in subtly extracting information from people, preferring to go straight to the point. She also knew Trixie knew she had her eye on their new housemate.

"So then Delia, please tell us you you have more going on in your love life than Patsy and I do" Trixie asked airily, reclining further into her chair and crossing one leg over the other.

Patsy tried with all she had to stop the blushing that was spreading upwards from her neck.

You're going to need a tracheotomy when I punch you in the throat, Nurse Franklin!! She inwardly raged, wishing the ground would cave in beneath her.

Delia caught the blush on the redheads face and tried and failed to stifle a giggle.

Patsy was crumbling already.

"Not much to say really," the little Welshwoman started, "haven't had a proper relationship since I finished uni. One or two little flings here and there but other than that..." She trailed off, glancing at Patsy who was clearly struggling to keep her facial expressions in order.

Trixie was curious and caught on to the glance. She started to ask whether anyone had caught her eye since moving to London when Pasty stood, rather abruptly and excused herself to the kitchen in search of more wine. It was going to take something stronger than cheap plonk to get her through this kind of embarrassment but wine would have to suffice.

Damn Trixie thinking she's Cilla bloody Black.

She couldn't even try to deny that she wanted Delia. She had from the very moment she opened the front door and saw her for the first time, and even more so when she was standing half undressed with a twinkle in her eye on the stairs a couple of hours previously.

It could never happen though. At 26, she'd never had a serious relationship. She couldn't. She couldn't let anyone in. It wasn't that she didn't want to, it was that she was scared. Everyone she'd ever loved was gone and she was terrified of being left alone to pick up the pieces of a broken heart again. So you see, it was easier to keep everyone at arms length and that had suited her just fine.

Something in the back of her mind told her Delia was different though. She didn't come across as being the type of girl who'd make you fall in love with her then rip your heart in two. Nor did she strike her as being the sort of girl who'd sneak out and leave in the wee small hours after a casual shag and ignore your texts. They'd only been acquainted for little over a week but Patsy had already cottoned on to the fact there was more to her than met the eye. Something was telling that Delia could be trusted.

Her mind was running away with itself. After all, she didn't even know if the gorgeous Welsh girl actually liked her.

Sitting at the kitchen table, Patsy lit a cigarette and took a long, deep drag, trying to compose herself before rejoining the other two girls, but once again her thoughts ran away with her, wondering if she did in fact have the ability to allow someone in. She knew deep down that she'd longed to be loved for years. Aside from Trixie, the rest of her circle of friends were happily embarking on new relationships or settling down and getting married and she didn't want to be left behind. She couldn't bear the thought of being the last one left on the shelf when everyone else was off playing happy families.

Her train of thought was interrupted by the sound of feet padding down the hallway.

"You know smoking's gross, don't you Pats?" Delia chirped as she made her way to the cupboard to seek out the abandoned easter egg of that morning.

Patsy nodded, chewing on her thumb nail.

"I've been trying to quit for years but it would appear I'm quite incapable. Never managed more than a day or two." Patsy conceded with a shake of her head, inwardly also trying to think of anything to say to lighten her mood and stop Delia asking the reason she's been practically silent all evening.

"How on earth do you manage to stay in that shape when all you do is eat? I swear you've always got something in your mouth" Patsy quipped, hoping it had had the desired effect.

Delia laughed and shook her head as she popped rather a large chunk of chocolate into her gob. "Dunno really, my mam reckons I've still got the metabolism of a small child. She used to go mad when I lived there, always going on and telling me off for eating her out of house and home. See, you like your cigarettes and I like my food. We all have our vices don't we?" she continued, "Although you're not likely to wake up one morning when you're 30 to discover you've turned into an absolute heifer overnight." She smiled, sticking her stomach out and rubbing it as she made her way back to the living room, no doubt to face another barrage of questions from Trixie.

 


	4. Migraines have their perks

Delia felt more settled with each passing day and she couldn't deny that her and Patsy had gotten closer recently. Witty remarks and shy smiles were aplenty and the pair found themselves spending more and more of their spare time together and slipping happily into a comfortable companionship. They often found themselves staying up later than they ordinarily would, sitting an inch or two closer on the settee as they chatted about everything and nothing, and they discovered themselves to be quite good at it. There was no topic in which they couldn't turn into a discussion.

Patsy’s toughened exterior had started to slip a little too. Subtly, never giving much away but Delia noticed the way her eyes would linger on her for a second too long and how she'd inhale just a little bit deeper when the brunette was close, as if to catch her scent.

Trixie had disappeared to spend a week at her parent's house on account of them being on holiday and needing someone to keep an eye on things, and Patsy had taken a much deserved week of annual leave.

Patsy had been rather unwell today though and had taken herself back up to her room just after lunchtime, feeling the effects of a particularly vicious migraine. The kind that only a long sleep in a blacked-out room could cure. She'd had the foresight to text Delia first because she didn't want the girl to be spooked if she came home from work to a pitch-black and seemingly empty house.

"In bed with a migraine. Help yourself to dinner, there's a stew in the slow cooker if you want it xx"

Delia replied immediately.

"Feel better soon cariad. Stew sounds lovely xx"

Delia did indeed find herself arriving home to a pitch-black and seemingly empty house and so remained cautious of any noise she made, deciding to skip dinner for the time being and settle herself in the living room to continue her binge watch of Game of Thrones. The sound so low it was barely audible.

An hour or so later, she heard the shower flick on upstairs and smiled at the idea the redhead must have been feeling a little better, and ten minutes later she heard the stairs creak as Patsy emerged and joined her in what had become her usual spot on the couch beside her.

"Feeling better cariad?" Delia enquired, taking a good long look at the woman beside her.

Patsy nodded slowly, "Well the headache has gone, thankfully, but my neck and shoulders are still a little sore and I'm still having trouble processing and train of thought" she sighed, rubbing the back of her neck.

Delia was looking concerned and wanted to help.

"Come here, lay on your front and put your head here," She indicated, placing a cushion over her lap, "I can't guarantee I can take the pain away but it might ease it off a bit. You'll need to shed that hoody first though."

Patsy happily and wordlessly obliged, resting her head in Delia’s lap and closing her eyes.

Delia got to work straight away, pulling the back of Patsy’s tank top down and began to rub small circles into the back and sides of her neck, gently at first so as to gauge the level of pain she was dealing with.

A deep groan escaped the back of Patsy’s throat.

"Did that hurt?" Delia asked, her voice etched with apology.

"No... no, carry on, please... this is wonderful." Patsy whispered, almost pleading for Delia not to stop.

"If this hurts at any point, you let me know, okay?"

"Mhm", Patsy nodded, feeling herself start to relax into the Welshwoman's touch.

Delia was rubbing harder now, as if to rid Patsy of all the tension she held. She silently admitted to herself that she could stay like this forever, listening to the beautiful redhead groan and sigh under her ministrations.

They stayed as they were for a long time, Delia cautiously working out the tension and any knots she came across, until Patsy shifted, turning herself over onto her back and looking up at Delia.

"Better?" Delia enquired.

"I do believe you have magic hands, Miss Busby." Patsy replied, a small smile creeping into the corner of her mouth.

Patsy noticed Delia’s eyes had darkened. There was a new sort of tension beginning to build around them and in that moment Patsy found that every reservation she had had abandoned her. She couldn't stop herself even if she wanted to.

She reached up, simultaneously tucking a stray brown lock of hair behind Delia’s ear and cupped her hand tentatively to the back of her neck. Her eyes never leaving the dark blue pools in front of her, she pulled the tiny brunette down towards her, capturing her bottom lip in her own.

She heard Delia’s breath catch before she felt her respond. But respond she did, bringing her hand to Patsy’s cheek, deepening their kiss and allowing her tongue to lightly brush against the redheads, eliciting a moan from both of them.

Neither of them could say how long they stayed like that but it felt like hours and neither of them had any intention of stopping.

Realising Delia’s own neck may be causing her some discomfort from being in the position they were in, Patsy slowly sat herself up and shifted across to rest against the arm of the couch, pulling Delia on top of her and resuming what they'd started.

It was as if they'd absorbed into one another and Patsy considered for a moment whether she'd died and indeed found a place in heaven with the most beautiful girl she'd ever seen laying between her legs with her body flush against her.


	5. Chapter 5

Delia stirred, feeling she was in a somewhat unnatural position with a numb-ish left arm that was tingling, making it feel just like the black and white fuzz of an old television looks.

Through the blinds the sky outside was beginning to brighten, pink streaks in the distance giving an indication that it might turn out nice today.

Delia dislodged her useless-for-the-moment arm from underneath Patsy and read the clock on the chimney breast. 6:52.

_Fuck, I'm tired._

It was well into the small hours when the pair had succumbed to sleep after spending the whole evening having a good old fashioned high school style snog on the couch, only breaking inbetween so Delia could fill herself with beef stew and Patsy with a cigarette or two.

_Even more beautiful when you're asleep, cariad._ Delia silently mused, weighing up the pros and cons of getting up and doing something productive with her day, or staying exactly where she was and enjoying viewing the angel that was currently wedging her against the back of the settee.

Productivity won.

She kissed Patsy softly on her temple, carefully disentangled herself, trying not to wake the slumbering ginger and made her way to the kitchen to seek out some sustenance and pen a note.

_Pats,_

_Gone for a run,_ _shan't be long._

_Text me when you wake up._

_Love, Delia_

She left the note under a glass of juice on the coffee table next to where Patsy was still sleeping and slipped out the front door quietly.

Last night had left Delia feeling frustrated in all the right ways and during her morning 5k, her thoughts kept going back to it.

_Sweat it out Busby, sweat it out._

The way Patsy's lips had felt against hers. The groan that escaped the back of her throat as their tongues brushed and danced together. The way Patsy's hands had found their way under the hem of her shirt and left faint scratchmarks along the bottom of her back and hips as Delia ground herself harder against her. The flush of her cheeks and the heat that seemed to radiate off her in waves...

This wasn't working.

Delia turned the music in her headphones higher, picked up her pace and pounded the pavement harder, trying with every last ounce of energy she had to quell the feeling she was experiencing.

One Miss Busby was not used to this. Yes, she'd had relationships and one night stands in the past- more of one than the other, admittedly- but this felt different. The flutter in her stomach she remembered back to had felt like a kaleidoscope of butterflies, and as she thought back they began to swarm up again, leaving her more breathless and pink-cheeked than the actual exercise was.

She was still convinced with a degree of certainty that there was a sadness and vulnerability to Patsy, but last night was as if she'd allowed a brick or two to be knocked out of the walls of which she kept herself barricaded behind.

They hadn't slept together. Hell, no clothes had been shed for that matter, nor had any hands gone a-roaming too far but Delia felt as though Patsy had given away the tiniest bit of herself and that was good enough. She wouldn't push Patsy into anything, whether it be physical or emotional. Everything was to be on her terms and at her pace and if that meant Delia having to wait a lifetime, she realised she probably would.

A 'ping' sounded in her ears, alerting her to a new notification and she slowed to a jog before stopping and leaning against a wall halfway up Naval Row to read the message.

**Don't get too way-laid chatting up pretty girls or charming elderly gentlemen or stroking every dog in Poplar. I'm taking you to Ikea if you still want to go. Those drawers look to be on the brink of collapse.**

**p.s we need milk. I can't even breathe in a morning without at least 3 cups of tea swimming around my system. xx**

_I cannot be held responsible for my delightful Welsh charm and dashing good looks, Nurse Mount. Ikea sounds good, thanks. Skimmed or semi?_ xx

**Semi, I'm not a monster. And who said you were good looking...? xx**

Delia laughed to herself and set off again towards the shop, almost at a sprint.

She very nearly missed the "Good Morning." from the next door neighbour, being thoroughly away with the fairies as she was.

The woman was older, roughly the same age as Delia's mam, with short curly hair and a stern but kind face.

"Oh good morning." Delia responded, shaking herself from her reverie.

"Phyllis Crane," she announced cheerily with an outstretched hand, "I don't believe we've been introduced but I've seen you coming and going recently. Am I right in saying you're Patsy and Trixie's new housemate?"

"Nice to meet you Mrs Crane, and yes, I moved in a few weeks ago. Delia Busby." she offered, feeling her hand being squeezed into a firm handshake.

"Phyllis will do just fine lass, I never was the marriage type." The older woman winked.

Delia was feeling a tad embarrassed by her assumption and nodded politely to make her way to her front door but felt a wet nose rubbing against the back of her hand. A smoky grey cat seemed also to wish to make acquaintances this morning.

"Lorca, leave the poor kid alone!" Phyllis began to scold, but Delia, truth be told, was loving the attention and was already returning her affection to the cat.

"He's lovely, Phyllis, I love cats!" Delia beamed, scratching behind his ears as he continued to stroll back and forth along the garden wall, purring loudly and leaving wisps of grey fur across the front of her t-shirt.

"Well I must get back inside, I've left two eggs boiling, only nipped out to drop the morning papers in for Patsy to have a read of. Come on Lorca." She bade goodbye making her way up the path.

Delia started to make her way back inside, replying with a bright smile, "Lovely to meet you Phyllis. And you too Lorca."

Patsy was sitting at the kitchen table, glasses on and reading the news articles Phyllis had passed on when Delia crashed through the front door mumbling something about a Leeds accent and a cat.

"Sorry I look so long Pats, the woman next door make a beeline for me at the garden gate..." she trailed off, mouth hanging open at the sight of a bespectacled Nurse Mount.

_Well fuck me.._


	6. Oh tits.

Patsy looked up from the morning papers, trying to look as though she hadn't cracked on to the fact Delia was red-faced and sputtering her words out as she made her way through the hall into the kitchen.

_Note to self: wear these more often._

"Didn't know you wore glasses Pats. They er... suit you." Delia managed, relatively coherently, hiding her face in the fridge as she put away the milk.

It appeared that the young welshwoman wasn't quite as unflappable as she made herself out to be and Patsy thought it nothing short of adorable.

Patsy, flicking nonchalantly through the paper, smirked her trademark lopsided half-smile and commented playfully as Delia was clattering around in a cupboard behind her. "Didn't know you had a thing for glasses."

"Well er... I don't. I mean... I do... not like in a fetishy way or anything... fuck..." she winced, "I just mean they look nice on you, that's all." Delia was beginning to resemble a freshly picked tomato again but to Patsy this was open season for a bit of teasing. She'd had a few unwarranted thoughts this morning as she'd thought back to the snog-fest of the previous night. Had it been a mistake? Would it happen again? Should it happen again? Did Delia even like her? She surmised, judging on the reaction of her little housemate, that yes, all but one of those questions could most likely be answered with a positive.

She turned a quarter turn in her seat to face Delia, who'd finally relented her rummaging to perch herself on the kitchen worktop, legs dangling lazily. "Perhaps I ought to wear them more often. What do you think Deels?" she asked, cocking her head to the side with a glint in her eyes.

"Er... yes. I mean..." Delia faltered again but tried to regain her composure and turn the tables onto the redhead, "Oh piss off! I know your game Patience Mount and you won't get the better of me." she threw back in failing defiance, but looking directly at Patsy this time.

Patsy stood, pushing her chair back under the table and without reply sauntered her way over to where Delia was sitting, placing her hands flat on the counter either side of her thighs, standing between them with raised eyebrow and whispered, "You look as though a cold shower is in order Miss Busby," her accent was even more clipped than usua. She moved her face closer to the tiny brunette, "I can't fathom what, but something's sent you into an awful tizz this morning." placing a chaste kiss to the corner of Delia's mouth. Delia didn't move. Just sat perfectly still, her eyes almost black.

In Patsy's own admission, her heart was pounding under her ribs but she hadn't realised it's ferocity until she turned to walk away and Delia hooked her fingers under the waistband of her jeans, pulling her back to stand between her legs with a grin playing at the corners of her lips.

"Don't play games you can't finish." Delia whispered breathlessly into her ear before wrapping her hand around the back of Patsy's neck and pulling her in for a soft, languid kiss. Patsy kissed back, deepening it, her tongue requesting access to Delia's mouth which was only granted when the redhead started to snake her hands round the brunette's hips and under the hem of her t-shirt, lightly grazing the baby-soft skin that lay beneath. The kiss heated up with hands wandering over newly exposed skin and tongues fighting for dominance as bodies were pulled closer and closer, only breaking occasionally when the need for air became overpowering.

As much as she'd have loved to stay exactly where she was, exactly in that moment, kissing quite possibly the softest lips she'd ever felt, Patsy was conscious of the heat surrounding the pair and reluctantly backed away to attempt her getaway once again. There'd be plenty time for more of that later on, she thought.

Delia groaned, her eyes dark and lips swollen, "Tease."

"Showered and changed!" Patsy retorted, freeing herself from Delia's grip and exiting through the kitchen door to head up the stairs, "And for the love of all things hygienic, get your arse off my clean work surface!"

Patsy smiled to herself once she was out of sight. This was morning was turning out better than she'd anticipated. She'd expected an air of awkwardness between them, as you very well could expect after what had ensued the previous night, but there hasn't been. There was no awkward eye contact or stilted conversation, no awkward silences or hastily concocted excuses. Just two people who were clearly both reading from the same page and for that in itself Patsy was truly elated.

It had been a good long while since anyone had had this effect on her, and indeed her on another person and she couldn't deny that Delia had sparked something within her. She'd fought with herself for so long, battling the demons that had threatened to consume every fibre of her being, trying to get her head around the person she'd become but perhaps for the first time since that realisation, she wasn't afraid and she wouldn't hide it any longer. Her stomach was fluttering with the thought of new possibilities with this gorgeous brunette who'd come crashing into her life, all beaming smiles and sparkling eyes and a beautiful Welsh lilt to boot.

Right now, everything was exactly how she wanted it to be.

Almost an hour later and there was still no sign of Delia. Patsy knew she'd found her way to the bathroom- the groan of the boiler starting up had confirmed it- but the smaller woman had been unseen and unheard since.

_How long does it take to have a bloody wash? It's not even like there's a lot of her. No, no, no, banish the thought._

Patsy groaned, getting up off her own bed to embark on a game of 'where the bloody hell is Delia'. As it happened, she wasn't very far away at all. As Patsy stepped on to the landing, there she was, pulling a pair of jeans off the banister, dark hair slightly wavy hanging loose around her shoulders and down her back, wearing only a long sleeved t-shirt with the sleeves pushed up and a pair of tight fitting black boxers.

She gazed longingly at the curve of her calves and thighs- especially the thighs- taut and muscular from years of playing football, but still soft looking and feminine. She'd never considered that she could find a woman wearing men's underwear to be so undeniably sexy.

_Oh tits._

She stood with her arms crossed against her chest, leaning against the door frame to admire the view a few feet in front of her. If Delia had noticed her presence, she didn't let it be known until she turned around.

"You do know voyeurism is frowned upon don't you Pats? I know people who've gone go prison for that." Delia commented dryly as she began to slip her trousers on and button them up ever so slowly, seeing the ginger's complexion start to resemble her hair.

Patsy didn't respond but damn sure felt the heat creep up from her neck, spreading upwards towards her cheeks.

Deciding instead that the only course of action to be taken was to do what Delia had done to her not too long ago, she hooked her fingers into a belt loop as Delia  tried to walk past, pulling the diminutive physiotherapist slowly- agonisingly slowly- towards her.

Their faces now millimetres apart, Patsy could feel Delia's hot breath against her neck, causing her skin to break out into goosebumps.

"You see, the thing is, I can't quite help myself if you're standing on my landing only half dressed." Patsy's lips now ghosting over a redenning earlobe.

Delia pushed herself forwards, pressing her whole form into the older woman, her hands snaking around the curve of her waist to the small of her back. "Is that so?" whispered in a tone lower than normal.

Patsy had no time to voice and further confessions as Delia was already tugging on her bottom lip with her teeth, provoking a shuddering gasp.


	7. Bonfire

The weather was unseasonally hot given it was still only early April and both girls made the sensible decision to venture out without even so much as a light jacket. Delia in her trademark long sleeved t-shirt and jeans that looked a size too big, and Patsy in a red checked shirt teamed with a pair of tight light blue skinnies.

Patsy was grumbling incessantly as they made their way down the path to the car. 

"I cannot believe I'm missing out on this beautiful weather to spend the day being dragged around Ikea with you," She complained, though only half-heartedly. The thought of spending a whole day with Delia made her heart giddily skip, "I could be enjoying an afternoon in the garden getting some colour into these ghastly milk bottle legs and sipping on Old Fashioneds."

Delia was looking at her with a raised eyebrow. "Excuse me but I do recall it was you who suggested it, so stop complaining and get in the bloody car!"

They climbed into the car, opening the windows and Patsy started the engine, shaking her head. "I know but if I'd known it would turn out so lovely, I might have retracted my offer."

"You had ample chance to change your mind... but you seemed intent on using your mouth for... other things," Delia smirked, provoking a stern sideways glance from her companion, "and as much as I'd love to spend the day walking through the park or getting merrily pissed in the beer garden, these drawers won't buy and assemble themselves. Actually, the pub is sounding more appealing by the second." She finished- inwardly groaning at the prospect of spending an afternoon building flat pack furniture- and scrambled around in the glove box for the aux lead. Radio 4 was not befitting of gorgeous spring days and Patsy's taste in music was atrocious to say the least. How could a 26 year old woman still like Boyzone and S Club 7?

Three hours later, and after many, many words of warning from Patsy about her car not being a seven-and-a-half-tonne lorry, the pair piled out of the car struggling with a chest of drawers, a wardrobe, a rug, a wicker bin and a set of new bedding with curtains to match. The bulkier items were not only a dead weight to carry, they were almost impossible to manoeuvre around the corners of the hall, stairs and landing, eliciting shrieks of abject horror from Patsy about "the state of the paintwork!"

Both women collapsed side by side onto Delia's bed, slightly sweaty and breathing heavily from their exertions.

"I don't know about you Deels, but I'm absolutely twatted!" Patsy panted heavily, brushing away stray strands of hair that had stuck to her face.

Delia turned onto her side to face the laboured redhead, a wry smile creeping to her lips as watched her chest rise and fall in a somewhat ragged fashion. "Same, but I've got bad news I'm afraid."

"Oh?"

"Might need your help pushing this bed over there and getting this down the stairs." Delia answered, gesturing lazily towards the broken drawers.

Patsy sat up with a defeated look on her face and sighed, "I swear Busby, if any more paint gets knocked off my walls, I'll personally oversee that you're the one patch it up." leaning over to plant a soft kiss on Delia's lips. Delia reciprocated and they lost themselves in the moment, not caring for anything other than revelling in the closeness they were sharing until an idea played out in the welshwoman's mind.

She pulled back from the kiss, feeling saddened at the lost contact but also quite giddy at the thought she'd had, "If I can break this stuff up into smaller bits, do you reckon we could chuck it in the fire pit and have ourselves an early bonfire night?" she asked excitedly, almost pleading as the image played out behind her eyes.

Patsy couldn't say no to a face like that. "I don't see why not." she conceded, "Now come on, the sooner we sort this out and the sooner we get to enjoy the rest of the day." Reasoning with a broad grin and rising off the bed with an outstretched hand and pulling Delia to her feet.

As it happened, flat pack furniture was not Delia's forte- even with Patsy's help, which in truth only actually stretched to fetching cups of tea and handing over the required bits and pieces- it took much longer and expended more energy than she'd expected. Patsy enjoyed herself rather more than she'd like to admit, as she watched the muscles in Delia's arms and shoulders flex and shift beneath her skin, and observed her abs grow taut when she stretched upwards, the bottom of her shirt lifting, to relieve the kinks. Good Lord, that girl was in good shape.

The air outside had cooled considerably but the sky remained clear as the stars glittered faintly in the darkness above.

Delia was busy stacking pieces of wood in the fire pit when she heard Patsy call out from the kitchen.

"Tea, Deels?"

"Something stronger wouldn't go amiss if you've got it Pats." Delia called back, sliding the last pieces into place and setting fire to the kindling at the bottom.

Patsy came outside with two glasses of bourbon and a thick knitted blanket slung haphazardly over her shoulder, and made her way to the small wooden bench Delia was sitting on.

They sat in comfortable silence for what felt like an age, quietly sipping their drinks and watching as the flames danced and leapt into the night sky. Delia turned slightly, one leg tucked under her other and observed as the flickering light both illuminated and cast shadows over the profile of the woman next to her; lips full and eyes deep in thought.

Delia took a long sip of her drink before breaking the silence. "Penny for them?"

Patsy turned, taking the smaller woman's hand and draped her arm around her shoulder, nestling herself back to lean against her chest before answering. "Never in my life did I think I could draw so much pleasure from sitting in front of a pile of burning bedroom furnature on a freezing cold night," she mused, intertwining her fingers with Delia's and placing a soft kiss to each knuckle, "so thank you, this is lovely."

Delia's heart was soaring. Here she was, under a blanket in the cool night air with the most gorgeous and enchanting woman she'd ever met. She giggled at her words, "And here I was, thinking you'd be high maintenance, demanding dinners in Knightsbridge and expensive nights out at the theatre," moving a lock of ginger hair to the side to plant a kiss just behind her ear. "If I'd have known all it would take to win you over was this, I'd have done it the first night I moved in."

Patsy shuffled down a bit more, pulling Delia's arm tighter around her chest and smiling at their honestly with one another. She'd never been any good at this sort of thing; saying out loud the things she felt or savouring a moment wrapped in the comfort of someone's arms. It was new and scary but excitingly thilling all at once. This tiny, deliciously mischievous and magnificently gorgeous woman from South Wales had burst into her world and was quickly changing her perceptions of herself. It didn't matter if she lost herself in a moment they were sharing. It didn't matter that Delia was slowly, probably subconsciously, chipping away at the walls she'd spent years building around herself. She didn't care anymore. And nor did it matter that she was starting to fall. Fast.

"You won me over the very second I laid eyes on you." she whispered back.

The temperature had cooled further, causing their breaths to mist in the air around them and the fire was dying out. The only sounds to be heard were the crackling of the embers and their own synchronised breathing, calm and steady.

Patsy sat forward and lit her final cigarette of the night, sighing, wishing the night didn't have to end. "It's getting late," she said, exhaling a thick plume of smoke upwards, "we should probably call it a night."

Delia also didn't wish for the night to end. If she could spend every waking minute with this woman she'd still want to spend every sleeping minute with her too, and even that wouldn't be enough.

"I suppose so, yes."

She waited for Patsy to finish her smoke before standing and bringing her to her feet, still holding onto her hand. They left their glasses by the sink and made their way upstairs.

Delia was absolutely certain now that she didn't want to be apart from Patsy tonight but her words stuck in her throat as they stood face to face on the landing. Needing to garner some courage from somewhere, she stepped forward, pulling the redhead towards her and bringing her head down into a soft, deep kiss, full of longing and want. Patsy responded, wrapping her hands around the back of Delia's neck and deepening it with a swipe of her tongue across her bottom lip, requesting access. Delia allowed it, just for a moment, before stepping back.

"Stay with me tonight?"

Patsy nodded and followed the brunette into her bedroom, closing the door behind them.


	8. Affirmation

Gets a bit saucy this oneone, so if it's not your bag I do apologise. Might want to skip the next one too.

xxx

The door closed with a soft click but Patsy made no move to turn around. Panic, worry and trepidation had well and truly set in, a million and one - probably unnecessary - thoughts scrambling around her brain at a rate of knots over a few short seconds, tripping over one another in a scrap to be acknowledged first.

_What the fuck are you doing Mount? You're not ready for this. Why do you have to go on putting on this fake bloody bravado, pretending you're oozing confidence and an absolute gift to women? Idiot. And you're out of practice. Badly. You haven't been with anyone since whats-her-name. Claire? Clara? Doesn't matter, the point is, you're going to be completely inadequate, make an arse of yourself, do it all wrong and then you'll have to do a moonlight flit to the deepest reaches of Norway to live the rest of your days as a professional fucking iceberg mover. Fuckfuckfuckfuck. She's looking at you. Don't look at her. Oh, holy mother of god, she's taking her pants off. THINK, MOUNT, THINK! Make something up. A well-timed crisis phonecall wouldn't go amiss. Why can't Trixie be going through a particularly ghastly break-up? You cannot do this! Wait... Maybe this is all just speculation. Maybe she wants nothing more than to lie in bed and go to sleep. That'd be grand, I can do that. Can't mess up sleeping, can I? Shitting hell fire, she's half naked. Again._

"Pats, what are you doing love?" Delia was looking at her curiously as she slipped her bra off under the t-shirt she'd just put on. She'd never seen Patsy look so flustered; not even the the time she'd accidentally walked in on her in the shower. All that had accumulated to was a shriek, a mumbled apology, two red faces and a bit of an awkward morning routine. This, on the other hand was something altogether more alarming.

"Nothing, I just-"

Delia had made her way over to where Patsy was still stood rooted to the spot and looped an arm around her waist. She'd sensed the nervousness in the redhead from the second the door had shut but had failed to properly acknowledge it until she looked up.

In the weeks of living together, Patsy had seemingly grown in confidence. The closed off, guarded side to her had given way to furtive glances, flirty comments and witty innuendos when the two of them were in company.

Patsy was about to catastrophically implode.

The redhead was absent-mindedly picking at a loose thread on the hem of her shirt, brow furrowed in thought, trying to find the right words to say, anything in fact. Anything to show this gorgeous woman that she wasn't feeling apprehensive at all. She'd exuded so much confidence in the last few weeks but it was in grave danger of crumbling around her at any moment.

Delia stepped in closer, resting her forehead against the taller woman's shoulder. "I'm sorry Patsy, I didn't mean to-"

"Delia, please-" Patsy softened and sighed sadly, feeling Delia's hand retreat from around her waist. The loss of contact was strangely missed for just a few beats until Delia shifted back, looking down and taking hold of both of Patsy's hands in her own, her thumbs grazing lightly over the bony prominences of her knuckles.

"Please let me finish?" Delia asked, her voice barely above a whisper. Patsy nodded, feeling calmer and uncharacteristically desperate to hear what she assumed was about to be a tirade of beautifully spoken words.

"I don't know why you look so scared, cariad, but please don't be. I didn't ask you in here under the premise of... well... anything really." Delia said, her eyes searching to find Patsy's and to drag them from the patch of carpet between their feet that she was intently staring at. "It's just that we've had such a lovely evening and I didn't want it to end because I... I really like you Patsy and I know it isn't one-sided but if this isn't what you want, it's fine, and I won't take offence if you walk out the door. I would never push you into something you don't think you're ready for."

Delia paused, looking up at Patsy, her eyes searching for the smallest hint that she hadn't said all the wrong things. A smile playing at the corner of Patsy's mouth gave her the courage to continue. "Call me a sad old sap but in all honesty, I just wanted to fall asleep next to you."

Patsy looked down at their joined hands and felt instantly calmer; Delia's words forcing her breathing and heart rate back to normal. She'd panicked for no reason and as if by mere telepathy, the little welshwoman knew precisely what was troubling her and what to say to reassure her.

_How does she do that?_

"How do you do that?" Patsy asked, drawing the brunette back in.

"Do what?"

"Know exactly what I need to hear."

Delia steadied herself with one hand on the back of the door, her eyes scanning and taking in every bit of the redhead's face. Her eyes, the strong line of her jaw, those beautiful full lips, the way her hair was falling loose around her face to frame those glorious cheekbones.

"You're good at facades and putting this front on like you're not fazed by anything, like nothing can get under your skin and to be honest, I don't know why you do it," she sighed, "and perhaps I'll never know, but I can read you like an open book Pats." Delia paused to take in Patsy's reaction. Satisfied, she continued, "You don't have to hide anything, not from me. See, all of this," she said with her index finger flitting back and forth in the space between them, "it's as new and scary for me as it is for you. And who knows where it'll all end up but right now all I truly want is for you to feel comfortable with whatever this is."

That was exactly what Patsy needed to hear. She traced the outline of Delia's cheek and kissed her forehead before the smaller woman spoke again.

"It's up to you what you want to do."

"Okay. Let me get washed and changed and I'll be right back."

Patsy returned a few minutes later and made her way around the bed to where Delia had pulled back the duvet. As she slipped in alongside her, she realised, quite astoundingly, just how natural it felt to be doing this. Delia's outstretched arm gave her the silent permission she needed to rest her head against her chest, her arm finding its way across a very flat, very toned stomach.

Delia snuggled her in tighter, unconsciously allowing her fingertips to trace random patterns over a bare shoulder and arm.

They took comfort in the silence for a few moments, both revelling in the new closeness they'd found.

"Any plans for tomorrow?" Delia asked.

Patsy shook her head, "Not really. Trixie text earlier to say she might pop over in the afternoon. I rather think she's bored and misses us. What about you?"

"Got football at 12. We're away at East Finchley so I've said I'll pop round to Aunty Blod's on the way home."

"Aunty who?"

"Aunty Blod. My mam's sister. She lives in Hornsey so it's not too far. Should be home around 4ish."

They lay like that in comfortable silence for a few moments, both content and trailing ghost-like fingertips across patches of exposed skin, each feeling the tingling sensation that each stroke left behind.

Patsy broke the spell, her hand moving up from Delia's hip to rest against her cheek and moving her own body closer still. "You really are wonderful you know," she orated, suddenly feeling bold.

She lifted herself slightly, moving her face the scant few inches towards the lips she was so desperate to feel. To taste.

It felt like an eternity but Delia had no time to answer before she felt soft, plump lips moving against her own. A mouth - she decided - that was so distracting and so mesmerising. She kissed back deliciously slowly, setting the pace in an attempt to keep some semblance of control but the tenderness of it only seemed to spur Patsy on as tongues danced lightly against one another.

The redhead's fears were evaporating quickly and being replaced with desire and want. Her hand moved of its own accord, trailing down to a hip then upwards, under clothing and over flawless skin and then back again; nails raking gently on their descent and leaving a blaze of fire in their wake.

Delia's breath caught at the sensation; Patsy's touch spurring her on although she was still sadly aware that it could all come to a dramatic halt at any second. She knew she would have to follow the lead on this one. Her hand found its way under the front of Patsy's top to caress the silky softness of her stomach.

The heat between them was palpable and still building.

Patsy was losing control. Every nerve ending was lit and a distinct fluttering started low down. She was wanted this. She wanted Delia's hands all over her, and hers all over Delia but she knew she would have to be the one to initiate anything further.

Before she had time to think on that any further, Delia was trailing fingertips upwards, barely touching until she unintentionally brushed against the underside of her breast.

The brunette instantly stilled her movement, worried she may have gone too far.

"Sorry, I.. I didn't mean-" she muttered against Patsy's lips.

The redhead cut her off by grabbing her hand to still its retreat, then cautiously moving it up and over an already hardened nipple. Both sucked in a shaky breath and Patsy felt a flood of heat rush down to her core as Delia continued her ministrations, rubbing her thumb over the straining bud.

Taking the initiative, she hooked a leg over Delia's waist to sit astride her, and in one fluid motion, pulled the tiny welshwoman up into a seated position, placing a trail of hot kisses from lips to neck and down to her shoulder and collarbone causing the brunette to gasp and whimper. She felt intoxicated. Every noise Delia made was being caused by her and it was sending pulses of desire through her and rallying her confidence.

She leveraged herself back before taking hold of Delia's shirt to pull it off, drinking in the sight before her. She was even more beautiful than she'd imagined.

Delia smiled at the reaction she was getting and rolled herself forwards. Slowly and carefully she started to pull the ginger's top up to reveal the pale creamy skin that lay beneath.

Patsy lifted her arms and allowed herself to be undressed, enjoying the feel of the cool air assaulting her skin and the prickle of goosepimples breaking out all over her now naked torso.

She rolled sideways and pulled Delia on top of her, her legs wrapping around the backs of her thighs and kissed her again, slowly at first but it quickly grew into a feverish intensity as hips rocked back and forth, stoking the fires that were building inside them both.

Delia adjusted her position to balance her weight on her right arm as she traced an invisible line of wet kisses down the redhead's neck, pausing in her journey to suck and nip at her sensitive pulse point before carrying on to trail her tongue over her collarbone, the tops of her breasts and down further still to the awaiting peaks.

She dipped her head and wrapped her lips around one straining bud, her tongue circling around it starting to elicit the most arousing sounds from the woman beneath her. Grazing her teeth over it, she heard Patsy groan loudly and felt a full set of perfectly manicured nails dig deep into her back, scratching hard and sharp.

She switched her attentions to the other breast, giving it the same level of attention as the first and drawing out more frantic breaths and moans from the stunning woman. Her left hand traversed downwards over soft plains of stomach, down the outside of her thigh and back up, ghosting over the outline of her underwear.

Patsy was grinding her hips harder, desperate for contact and to quell some of the sensation that was pooling between her legs.

Delia stilled her hand and looked up at Patsy, searching for affirmation to continue.

Patsy nodded her consent and felt expert fingers glide under the fabric into the wet heat.


	9. No more fear

Patsy was coming undone. Every cell in her body was thrumming with the electricity that passed from Delia's fingers and mouth, soaking into her skin to wash over her in white-hot waves.

Delia was working her magic between her thighs, increasing the pressure just enough to push the gorgeous redhead to the brink of her climax, then to gentle her movements, leaving her teetering on the edge.

Patsy didn't know how much longer she could take it but this was the sweetest torture and she couldn't wait to exact kind to the woman who was unravelling her. She dragged the brunette up to sit astride her thigh and sat up so they were face to face, her nails scratching deeply into her perfectly sculpted shoulders once again, whispering into her ear between ragged breaths.

"Delia... Oh god!! Please... Oh fuck!... I need..." The pressure built again as deft digits circled harder around her sensitive bundle of nerves. "I need you inside me." She choked out, feeling herself balancing on the knife's edge once again, each tiny shift in direction thrusting her forwards towards the release she so desperately needed.

Agonisingly slowly, the Welsh beauty moved lower through the well of moisture and even slower still, dipped two tips inside, just enough to make her lover surge her hips upwards with no desire other than to be filled. Delia drew back out and in again, still slow but firm; intent on drawing the pleasure out for as long as Patsy could hold on. In again. And out. Her own arousal was becoming unbearable as her body cried out to be touched but it could wait. She was far too enthralled with the movements of rolling hips and strangled moans and hearing her own name tumble breathlessly from kiss-swollen lips.

The sensation built further as fingers matched the pace of hips and a tongue left a cool line of moisture from collarbone to earlobe and down to tease and suck and flicker relentlessly over hardened buds. Patsy couldn't hold out any longer. She searched and grasped through thin air to find anything to grip on to, eventually her hand gripping the headboard hard with white knuckles as she rode the most intense wave of pleasure. She felt fingers drive in once more and then crook once, twice, three times until her eyes rolled back, back arched and she came - the most intense orgasm ripping through her, leaving her shaking and breathing unevenly.

Delia pulled away gently and captured Patsy's lips in her own, kissing her languidly and trailing her fingers upwards over super sensitive skin easing the redhead down from her high. "That was the most beautiful thing I've ever seen," the brunette remarked, smiling lazily and watching the redhead struggle to come back down to earth.

Even if Patsy did indeed have the power of speech available to her, she decided there wasn't a word in the English language to describe what that was that Delia made her feel. Astonishing? Heart-stopping? Earth-shattering? No. None of those even came close.

Delia felt Patsy's weight on her. The press of their hips and slide of their sweating bodies was delicious. Red hot lips and tongues battled in a heated exchange before kisses meandered over the curve of her neck to the top of her chest.

She gasped loudly when she felt Patsy's mouth encapsulate a rock-hard bud, tongue circling and teeth grazing lightly to send pulse after pulse of heat down to her core.

"Oh!.. fuck!.. Pats." She gasped out, feeling Patsy smile at the reaction she was stirring up. Her hand reached into red locks, ensuring the ginger's attentions remained where they were, such the pleasure she was creating.

Long fingers began a lazy descent over her abdomen and the inside of her thighs, occasionally dipping under the waistband of her underwear but deliberately avoiding the area Delia was desperate to be touched. Her breaths were coming in short sharp pants. Heart hammering in her chest.

Patsy sat back on her heels to survey the beauty beneath her. Dark locks splayed across the pillow, chest heaving and pupils blown. She held eye-contact as she hooked her fingers under the waistband of Delia's boxers and pulled them down slowly before tossing them carelessly across the room, then leant down to kiss and lick up the soft skin of a deliciously inviting thigh.

Delia couldn't breathe, the arousal and anticipation taking over and the tightening in her pelvis becoming unbearable.

"Patsy, Please-" she begged, but before she could finish her request she felt Patsy place a soft kiss then a long, deep swipe through her most intimate area. Both groaned loudly in unison at contact. The feel and the taste both equally sublime to the two women.

The tension within built rapidly with every flick, swipe, circle and kiss as her lover focussed all her attentions to the electrified bundle of nerves. Delia knew this wasn't going to take very long but was determined to prolong the pleasure.

She was moaning loudly now, a mixture of English and Welsh puncturing the silence from the back of her throat.

The redhead didn't understand the words but every "bwchio" and "o Dduw" encouraged her further.

Patsy stepped up a gear, her tongue moving faster and harder, every motion with the intent of leaving the welshwoman a quivering mess.

Delia tangled her fingers into the red locks once again and rocked her hips in time with Patsy's ministrations.

The redhead brought her hand up to tease at the brunette's entrance for a few moments before sliding two fingers in deep, beginning an unsteady rhythm. Slower then faster. Slower then faster, causing to Delia to buck wildly against her, her breathing erratic and her hands grasping at anything to keep her anchored.

Delia's hands gripped the bedsheet as the pace increased once more, feeling a very talented tongue press harder against her, pushing her closer to the edge.

"Don't stop! Please don't stop!"

Her body rose up one final time as Patsy crooked her fingers quickly against that wall of muscle. A pause in breath. An explosion of sensation and she fell spectacularly from her high; muscles clenching and twitching around Patsy's fingers as she rode out the final wave of pleasure.

Patsy slowly kissed her way back up over her stomach and breasts and upwards to her mouth, allowing Delia to taste herself on her lips before resting her head against Delia's chest; wrapping her arm around her waist to pull her closer and listening to her heart thud beneath her ribs.

Delia turned her head as she spoke, a content smile playing across her lips, "I have no words for what that was."

Patsy cut her off with her mouth, kissing ever so slowly, just happy to revel in the silence for a moment longer. She realised her initial fears had been unfounded. She felt silly that she'd felt so terrified. How could she have been so scared when Delia made her feel so safe and wanted?

She broke from her thoughts to gaze at the gorgeous woman beside her whose breathing had finally returned to normal. "And you said you hadn't invited me in here under the pretence of having your wicked way with me," she chuckled, stroking Delia's cheek, "are we in the habit of telling fibs, Miss Busby?"

Delia laughed heartily, "Not at all, it's not my fault if I find you completely irresistible is it? And I think you'll find it was you who started it so don't even try to pin this on me." she admonished, playfully slapping the redhead's shoulder before carrying on, "But god help you now Pats. I thought I was infatuated with your mouth before but bloody hell... after that..." She trailed off watching a broad grin spread across Patsy's face.

Patsy reached down and pulled the heavy duvet over their chilled bodies then nestled back down against the brunette's chest.

"You ought to get some sleep Busby, otherwise you'll be being subbed off at half-time for a poor performance."

"I never deliver a bad performance cariad." Delia shot back with a raised eyebrow, "as you should very well know."

\------

Patsy woke to the sound of the kitchen radio playing and the smell of sausages and toast wafting up the stairs and her stomach growled. She wasn't normally one for breakfast, instead usually opting for a coffee and a cigarette but last night's activities had clearly worked up quite the appetite. She stretched, feeling the not entirely unpleasant ache at the tops of her thighs and arms and smiled reflectively at what had brought it about. Delia had been astoundingly attentive in her ministrations.

She rolled out of bed and tiptoed quietly - still nude - to the bathroom, in dire need of a shower. Food could wait a little while longer.

She washed quickly but relished the heat and pressure of the water against her aching muscles, then brushed her teeth thoroughly and dried off, slipping back into Delia's room to grab the dressing gown from the back of the door. It was far too small for her tall frame. Too short on the arms and the actual length coming way short of the knee. It would do, she surmised.

Patsy crept downstairs and peeped around the kitchen door. Delia was stood in front of the grill, singing along to Joy Division with a pair of kitchen tongs in one hand turning the sausages, and a forkful of pasta in the other.

Who eats pasta at 9am

Patsy cleared her throat and Delia turned, balking as she did so at the sight of the woman in front of her.

"Well, aren't you a sight for sore eyes, " She laughed, closing the gap between them and leaning up to place a chaste kiss to Patsy's lips, "you look fetching"

"Not as fetching as you." Patsy answered, casting her eye over Delia, already dressed in her training kit.

Patsy sat at the kitchen table and marvelled at the domesticity of it; watching Delia making breakfast, rushing around in a whirlwind of buttering toast and piercing coffee pods in the machine.

The joviality of their conversations never waned as they ate breakfast. Delia continued her ribbing of Patsy's choice of attire and Patsy called her a demon for eating pasta for breakfast, at which Delia shot back "I need to replenish my energy stores after last night or I really will be being dragged off at half time."


	10. An Old Face

The previous month had passed by at a snail's pace of nothing but work, work and more work for Patsy, and if she were to admit it to herself, she was thoroughly fed up. Weekends down in A and E were never to be relished, especially when said shifts were night shifts.

Patsy hated nights with a passion.

Cleaning head wounds, strapping up broken fingers and administering fluids - the volume of which seemed to be similar to the volume of the River Thames - to the over-indulgent revellers of London was tedious at best. Couple all of that with the not-so-tiny issue of knowing she wouldn't be sleeping next to her darling Deels tonight; what the doctors, nurses and patients had on their hands tonight was a particularly waspish Nurse Mount.

Although only young in age and five years into her nursing career, she was known throughout the hospital for being a formidable force to be reckoned with. Many a colleague had sloped off with their tail between their legs after a few choice words from Nurse Mount and a facial expression that could only be described as 'don't fuck with me'. She was an excellent nurse and there was no better person you'd want by your side in the midst of a crisis but people were incredibly cautious to avoid finding themselves on her bad side.

It was still only 11pm when Patsy strode quickly and confidently into the waiting room with clipboard in hand for what felt like the three hundredth time that evening. She was in desperate need of a cigarette but grabbing five minutes to have one was looking increasingly unlikely.

"Edward Hamilton-Parkhill" she announced as her eyes scanned to waiting room.

A young man sporting an inch-long gash across his right cheek and splash of claret around the lower half of his face and down the front of his shirt stood up from his seat. What may have been a pristine white shirt at the start of his evening was now ruined.

He looked vaguely familiar but Patsy couldn't quite place him.

"This way please," Patsy ordered, opening the door wide for her latest patient. "Pop yourself in here and I'll be back in a tick." She said, pulling the curtain back around the bed and ushering him inside.

She returned a minute later with a trolley full of bandages and such and tight smile, finding Edward lying horizontal on the bed, looking as though he didn't have a care in the world.

"What's happened here then?" she asked as she turned his face towards her to assess the damage.

"Girlfriend took a swing at me, said I'd been chatting up another girl in the bar," he stated dryly, as though the circumstances of his injury should have been blatantly obvious, "daft old tart."

The smell of alcohol wafting from him was overpowering but Patsy made no comment about that. As a woman who could hold her own when it came to drinking, she found herself amused that the gentlemen of London could not, in fact, hold a candle to the amount of hard liquor she could put away, and thus, often found themselves in situations such as these.

"I see," she replied, already starting to clean around the wound, "Well the good news is you don't require any stitches so you can be back on your way shortly."

Edward shifted, taking a good look the nurse in front of him for the first time. He too thought she looked familiar; certainly in the face but the hair colour didn't match what his memory was trying to recall.

"Do I know know?" he asked, trying to focus his eyes properly.

"I don't know, do you?" Patsy was still in no mood and this guy was already coming across as right royal tit.

A look of realisation dawned on Edward's face. "Yes, I think-," he paused to study Patsy's features as closely as his booze-addled grey matter would allow him, "Patience Mount! You went to Charterhouse. I thought I recognised you. The red looks nice by the way."

_Boarding school. Of course._ "You're quite right, but please keep still for a second." Patsy nodded, continuing to clean the last of the dried blood from his chin and jaw and silently praying she wouldn't be coerced into a chit-chat of reminiscing about 'the good old days'. After all, she held very few fond memories from her time spent there.

Patsy sensed an uneasy shift in her patients demeanour but she carried on regardless.

_Just hurry up and get him out._

The glazed look in his eyes and relaxed features had given way to a sharpened gaze and an almost menacing grin.

"So, since we've been reunited in such a timely fashion and it looks as though I'm back on the market," he momentarily trailed off, shuffling towards the edge of the bed but remained lying on his side, "how about you let me take you out for dinner next week?"

The question was asked so confidently that Patsy had the idea that Mr Hamilton-Parkhill would have expected her to gracefully fall at his feet and accept his offer in a flurry of thanks and gratitude.

_Men._

Patsy continued to put the finishing touches to dressing his injury as she answered with an easy smile. "Sorry Edward, no can do, I'm spoken for I'm afraid."

It wasn't entirely true but it certainly wasn't a flat-out lie either. Her and Delia hadn't made anything official just yet but seeing as neither of them appeared to be interested in anyone but the other, they may as well just call it what it ought to be. They'd been virtually inseparable for quite some time.

Ah, details, details.

She caught his line of sight as he glanced down at her left hand.

"There's no ring on your finger so what's the harm?" Edward leered, leaning closer and taking a firm grip of Patsy's forearm.

Patsy shifted her chair backwards and wrenched her arm from his grip, surreptitiously rubbing at it where his fingers had dug painfully into her skin.

"I said no!" Her tone was intended to brook no argument but Edward was relentless.

Patsy was used to drunk young men (and some not so young. Or drunk) trying it on a bit when she was patching them up. Most would usually either sigh in resignation, laugh it off and leave it that when they were gracefully shot down, or they'd try to turn up the charm a little in the hope that a cheeky grin or well-rehearsed line would work miracles, but very few had ever physically had the nerve to go hands on. Unfortunately for the normally unflappable Nurse Mount, this was turning into one of those occasions and she felt uncharacteristically unsettled and on edge.

Edward wasn't going to go quietly. Patsy finished patching him up and stood up to make her way out of the cubicle when Edward sat up and surged forwards off the bed, pawing roughly at her waist. "Come on Patience, I promise you, you'll have the best night of your life. Especially when Little Edward makes and appearance." he sneered, pulling Patsy closer to him and looking down at their now joined bodies.

It took every ounce of strength and composure that Patsy possessed to not take a swing and reopen the wound she'd just dressed.

"Take your hands off me right now!"

She stepped back, swiping his hands away from her body and started to walk backwards and away from this disgusting excuse of a man, still continuing to make it abundantly clear that his advances were not welcome.

Images of the boys at school that would grope and grab at the girls behind the tennis courts and bike shed flooded her memory. She'd been on the receiving end of their advances on many an occasion as a teenager, and although she made it clear in no uncertain terms that their intentions were not welcomed, it was never a deterrent and teenage boys were well known for being persistent. She recalled back to a particularly nasty memory of one of them pushing his hand up her skirt as they stood chatting amicably behind the bike shed having a smoke one afternoon. A well placed knee to the testicles stopped him in his tracks.

"Don't you ever lay your hands on a woman when she tells you no. Now get out of this room before I phone security and have you forcibly removed! We're done." She spat.

Patsy threw the curtain aside and all but jogged past the nurses station, feeling at her pockets for her cigarettes and phone. Nurse Turner who was sat behind the desk organising paperwork recognised the fury etched onto Patsy's features but knew better than to question it at that moment. She knew that if she was to be made privy to what had gotten her so het up, she'd be informed after Patsy had had a cigarette and five minutes to calm herself down.

Patsy stood leaning against the perimeter wall of the hospital, taking deep, lung-burning drags of the remainder of her cigarette and trying to steady her breathing and heart rate. Had she just been assaulted? She wasn't quite sure where the law would have stood on that particular altercation but believed she may have had a good case.

She pulled up Delia's number as she lit a second cigarette from her first and hoped that her _girlfriend?_ hadn't fallen asleep already.

Delia answered on the fourth ring and Patsy could tell she was smiling into her phone.

"Hello Pats."

"Delia," Patsy breathed, struggling to keep her emotions in check.

"Everything alright?" Delia sounded concerned. Patsy never called when she was at work. Even when - on the very rare occasion - she managed to take a break, she would only ever text.

Patsy was pacing. She couldn't keep still as her mind replayed the last fifteen minutes on a loop in her head.

"Yes. No. I, I don't know," she stammered, not wanting to alarm Delia but knowing she'd want to know what was the matter, "he wouldn't take the hint. I.. he was persistent, just couldn't-"

"Patsy-" Delia tried to cut her off for a second to figure out what was going on but the redhead carried on.

"Leave it be. I told him no and then he grabbed-"

She was rambling at a hundred miles a minute as her mouth tried to keep up with her brain.

"Patsy!! Pats, stop, I don't know what you're saying, slow down," Delia was worried, she'd never seen or heard Patsy so panicked, "Who grabbed you?"

She stopped pacing and tried formulate her thoughts so that her words would at least come out in some sort of accurate order instead of how they were currently spewing out.

"Sorry. I'm sorry," she apologised, suddenly registering the worry in Delia's voice. The very last thing she wanted to do was scare her, "It was a chap I went to school with. He came in with a cut cheek and tried it on a bit. Maybe I overreacted, I don't know."

"You said he grabbed you!" Delia's voice was tense, her accent thickening with emotion as she tried to piece together what she was hearing.

"Yes, my arm. And.. And my waist. But it's alright, I'm fine." Patsy released a shuddering breath of relief, finally realising that she was in fact unharmed.

As Patsy was beginning to regain her composure, at the other end of the line Delia was becoming more and more incensed. "You've got to be kidding me! Did he hurt you? Are you sure you're alright?" she asked.

"Yes I'm fine, and no, he just scared me a little that's all," Patsy answered as calmly as she could. She could sense the tension roiling inside Delia and now it looked as though it was her turn to calm her down. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to panic you Deels."

"Promise me you're okay?"

"I promise." Patsy answered, nervously chewing her thumbnail.

Delia was still furious that someone had dared to even lay a finger on her redhead. She sat back down and ran her hand through her hair roughly.

"Okay. Okay, as long as you're not hurt," Delia breathed, finally believing that Patsy was no longer in any danger, "But I'll tell you now Pats, if he goes anywhere near you again I'll cut the cunt's fingers off!"

Patsy let out a hearty laugh, "Such foul language Busby, I didn't know you had it in you. And to think I let you kiss me with that mouth."

It was true. The brunette was nowhere near the level of prolific swearer that Patsy was.

"I'm being serious Pats, if anyone dares touch you I'll have them." Delia wasn't joking. What Patsy didn't know was that she'd protect her with her own life if ever came down to it.

Patsy smiled her first real smile of the night. It was endearing to hear that the tiny welshwoman would not only have her back, but was also so fiercely protective of her.

"Oh you are gallant. I didn't know that about you either," Patsy teased. The tension within her had lifted and although she would have loved to stay on the phone to the woman she was falling in love with, she knew she had to be heading back inside to the chaos that was waiting. "Anyway, I'd better be off. Sorry again for worrying you."

Delia sighed at the other end, also not wanting this little exchange to be over. "Alright, go on then, be on your way and stay safe." she started to sign off, "Forgot to mention though, we're going out tomorrow night with Trix. No arguments, you need to blow off some steam."

"I can think of better ways-"

"Don't start." Delia tried to scold but her giggle gave her away, "Goodnight cariad, I'll see you in the morning."

"Goodnight beautiful."


End file.
